


Putting Disaster In Charge

by thepageofapillow



Category: GOT7
Genre: Cooking, Domesticity, M/M, Mark is kinda like the rebel child, idk what else to tag, playful banter between Jackbam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 05:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepageofapillow/pseuds/thepageofapillow
Summary: JJ Project is away for a comeback and Jackbam have responsibilites. Taken from the starter meme, “Do you think it’s cooked all the way?”





	Putting Disaster In Charge

**Author's Note:**

> This was the last fic I fully finished while I was in high school. Also, I wrote this before I knew JJ Project was having a comeback. I must be fuckin psychic.

Sometimes when Jaebum is away, it gets hectic; that just means Jinyoung has to serve as the Authorative Adult™ for the day and everything is fine.

It’s never okay when both Jinyoung  _and_  Jaebum are gone.

In the GOT7 dorm, there’s a hierarchy of sorts. It wasn’t established right away, but no one knows how it got this way. Jinyoung and Jaebum instantly took on the role of mom and dad of the dorm. Partly because they were perfectly suited for it, but most of the reason was because they were practically married already.

So when they’re both gone, it’s up to the next couple in charge to take on those roles. So it’s safe for Jackson to say that the rest of the members are totally fucked.

Because his boyfriend is Bambam, the loudest memelord nuisance of the century. Jackson finds those qualities to be quite charming and endearing, but apparently the rest of the dorm doesn’t think so. Mark mocks him as he pecks Bambam on the cheek, making gurgling noises as he pretends to stick his finger down his throat.

“Dare I say it, but you two are being way grosser than Jinyoung and Jaebum,” Mark sneers, cranking up the volume on his phone. Jackson has no idea what he’s listening to, but the beat is thumping and slightly vibrating the couch they’re all sitting at. Yugyeom is in the corner with Youngjae, no doubt flirting with him, and Mark is chilling on the couch with the loudest couple in the dorm.

“Good. We’re way cuter than them anyways, right?”

Jackson turns to his boyfriend as he slings his arm harshly around the boy’s shoulders. Bambam chuckles obnoxiously. Jackson thinks it’s barf-inducing and cute all at the same time. 

“Right. At least I had the guts to ask Jackson out, unlike a certain someone.” Bambam emphasizes his point by snapping his head over to Yugyeom and Youngjae. They both stay silent and burn bright red on the cheeks.

“Riiight. So, what are we having for dinner anyways? I’m hungry as fuck.”

Jackson’s eyes widen as he gently removes his arm around Bambam’s side. He gets up dramatically and points towards the kitchen. “There’s food in there, go make it yourself!!”

“See, I would, but I have no idea how long to cook chicken for. That’s what Jinyoung planned to make tonight. And since one of you is mom for today, you can make it. Maybe it’ll be good experience in the future so you don’t burn your house down.”

Jackson turns pink as he daydreams of living together with Bambam, maybe in a cottage with cute flowers and a hammock in the backyard hanging from a large oak tree, that is, until Mark leans on his knees enough for his hand to waver in Jackson’s face. He snaps several times, snapping Jackson out of his fantasy. He’s a little sad it’s gone.

“Go. You know damn well we’re not gonna let Yugyeom go cook, and Youngjae looks like he would faceplant onto the stove if he even tried.” At that statement, Jackson looks over at Youngjae, who is mid-conversation with Yugyeom, his eyes drooping and shallow breaths threatening to even out soon. He’d probably fall asleep sitting up again. Hopefully he doesn’t drool on Yugyeom this time.

“Sure thing, hyung,” Bambam says with a pleasant face. Bambam gets up, patting Jackson’s shoulders and steering him into the kitchen. He leans into Jackson’s side and whispers, “We’re fucking screwed. I really hope you know how to cook chicken.”

Jackson looks helplessly at his boyfriend as he steers him to the counter. A recipe is posted to the fridge, Jinyoung’s attempt to be somewhat helpful to whoever the kitchen duty fell upon. In the corner at the end of the recipe reads,  _good luck, losers_ , in bigger print than the rest of it. Jackson sighs, moving the magnet off of the piece of paper and attempting to decode Jinyoung’s writing like he was reading hieroglyphics. He sighs audibly, thunking his head against the fridge door.

“It isn’t totally hopeless,” Bambam replies, smiling at his boyfriend who was currently trying to become one with the fridge. He plucks the paper from Jackson’s fingers and reads it. “I know what a lot of these spices are, so I can season pretty well, probably.” Bambam leans up against the counter, tilting his head so he can get a better look at Jackson. “Just cook the chicken. I can handle the rest, probably.”

“Stop saying probably! You’re making me more nervous than I probably need to be!” Jackson stamps his feet, creating the illusion that he’s about to throw an adult tantrum. However, Bambam sees through the charade and he laughs. He pokes Jackson’s cheek and turns around, opening cabinets to obtain the right pan for the right job. When he turns back around, Jackson is still pouting.

Bambam opens the fridge and gestures toward the plate on the top shelf. “Chicken isn’t gonna walk out of the fridge on its own, you know.” Bambam flashes a blinding smile and Jackson sighs, taking it and unraveling the plastic wrap settled on top of it. He figures he should probably be cleanly about this since he’s feeding several mouths. 

He washes his hands in the sink next to his boyfriend. He flashes him a mock smile, but it quickly turns into a real one when Bambam presses a wad of suds to the tip of Jackson’s nose. For the first time since they decided to embark on this cooking adventure, Jackson laughs. And it’s loud. He and Bambam fight with soap suds until Mark gets annoyed.

“I don’t think washing your hands for ten hours is gonna make kimchi jjigae!”

Jackson sticks his tongue out at Mark and dries his hand on the towel near the sink. He sincerely wishes that they could use pork belly for the kimchi jjigae, but Jaebum pulled out his disgusting aegyo and convinced Jinyoung to get chicken instead for tonight’s meal. Jackson fondly remembers throwing up a little in his mouth at the scene. He feels it now as he stares at the chicken breast, knife now in hand. He gulps and holds one side as he attempts to cut away the skin and fat, per the request of one troublesome maknae. He wishes he could strangle the kid and get away with it.

On the instructions now, it says to cube them. Next to Jackson, Bambam is steaming vegetables in a large pot. He’s pulled out Jinyoung’s signature baby blue apron, and it usually looks bad. But on Bambam, it makes him look strangely hot. Jackson gulps again.

He looks away and finishes cubing up all the chicken that was piled on the plate. He wipes at the nonexistent sweat on his brow, satisfied with his hard work. He huffs as he sets the knife down carefully. He goes to retrieve the rice to start steaming it, in the process stealing a piece of kimchi from the giant container. It’s almost empty.

Bambam smacks Jackson on the arm as he gets out the rice cooker, and Jackson smiles. He starts to walk away when Bambam yanks him back by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t think you’re getting away too easy. Remember, you have to cook that,” Bambam says, pointing towards the cutting board full of chicken with his wooden spoon. This situation is the definition of domesticity and Jackson drools at the sight.

He slumps his shoulders, lifting up the board and pulling out a pan. He greases it and waits for it to heat up, watching Bambam stir the broth with all the vegetables. He wonders if they should add tofu to it when he hears the sizzle of the pan beckon him. He throws the chicken in, moving it around with a spoon that matches Bambam’s. He has no idea when this should be done.

He peers at it after a good five minutes, tapping Bambam on the shoulder. “Does this look cooked all the way?”

Bambam leans over and peers at it as well, narrowing his eyes. “Uh, you could cut it and see if it is.”

Jackson shrugs, taking a cube of meat out of the pan and twisting his spoon to cut through it. “What color is it supposed to be?”

“White, I think.”

Jackson picks up the cut piece of chicken and closely examines it. “It’s still a little pink in the middle. Should I wait a bit longer or is this considered rare?”

Bambam laughs, putting the top back on the pot he is manning. “I think that might be dangerous, so I’d wait.”

Jackson nods, putting the piece he cut back into the pan. He stirs it around some more and waits a few more minutes to check it. When he cuts through it this time, it’s white all the way through. “All done, I think!”

Bambam nods, taking the end of the pan and dumping the chicken into the pot. Last time Jackson checked, there was only vegetables in the pan, but now all the proper seasonings and pre-made broth have been added, and it smells divine. Jackson opens a drawer closest to the rice cooker and attempts to dip a spoon in to taste, but Bambam smacks his arm. “No tasting until the kids can taste it.”

Jackson puffs out his bottom lip, shuffling from side to side and whining. “But you’ve tasted it like twenty times!”

“That, my friend, is because I am the chef of this creation. I need to make sure it is perfect,” Bambam enunciates, pulling off an abysmal French accent.

“First of all, I’m not your friend, we’re dating. Second of all, the accent was horrible. third of all, this is so unfair!!!” He stomps his feet again and crosses his arms. Bambam just laughs at him.

“Okay, piss baby. I know you won’t ever leave me alone if you don’t get a taste, so here.” Bambam dips his spoon into the broth, putting his hand underneath so none of it drips on the floor. He blows on it a little before thrusting it in front of Jackson’s face, and the older boy’s eyes light up as he sips from it.

“Ooh, it’s really good!!” He does a little shimmy and smiles with all of his teeth. “Ah, I’m so excited!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now go over there and get the rice out, dearest wife.”

Jackson rolls his eyes and reaches the rice cooker just as it beeps.  He also pulls out several pre-made side dishes out of the fridge and heats them accordingly. Bambam had also put him to the task of setting the table. When he goes out of the kitchen, he finds an appalling sight before him. Mark has since abandoned the couch and is blasting music in his shared room with Youngjae. 

But that isn’t the worst part. Jackson is gonna need to bleach his eyes for the rest of his pathetic life.

Yugyeom is straddling Youngjae, and they’re making out. Jackson makes a noise that one would make before hurling, and they pull away from each other. 

“Look, I’m happy for you and all, but please don’t play tonsil hockey right before we eat. I don’t want to lose my fucking appetite.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Yugyeom shyly repies. How he can go from dominating sly maknae to shy maknae is beyond Jackson’s comprehension, so he ignores it. Bambam brings over the giant pot of kimchi jjigae and all those worries fade away.

“Time for dinner, kids!!”

“I’m coming,  _mom_ ,” Mark yells from down the hall, turning off the music. Jackson scoffs and gets started eating already, piling rice into his bowl and licking his lips. He’s so excited.

“You’re going to enjoy this, my children. Dad whipped it all up. But listen, I cooked the chicken!!” 

Youngjae laughs, picking up his chopsticks and sitting next to Yugyeom.

“Enough of this, please, it’s disgusting. I didn’t think I’d be able to see another couple as married as Jinyoung and Jaebum are, but here you two are, being even more skin crawlingly gross as before,” Mark explains, popping a piece of kimchi between his lips.

Bambam laughs, pouring some of the broth on his rice. “What can we say, we’re the fill-in for your regularly scheduled program!”

Just then, Jinyoung walks in, hand in hand with Jaebum.

“Wow, Jaebum hyung! Fancy seeing you here!” Jackson exclaims sarcastically.

“Seems I came at the right time,” Jinyoung says, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “How’d they do, kids?”

“It’s really good, Jinyoung hyung! Come try some!” Youngjae says, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Well, if you insist,” Jinyoung says. He and Jaebum sit down. He pats Jackson on the shoulder and smiles. “Thanks for not fucking it up.”

Jackson furrows his brows, about to yell at Jinyoung, but Bambam stops him with a hand on his arm. Bambam shakes his head and motions towards Jackson’s rice bowl expectantly.

Jackson sighs. He could never say no to Bambam. So, he and the rest of the gang continue eating.

The pan is empty by the time the night is over.


End file.
